


Ace of Spades

by Luna_Manar



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Action & Romance, Balamb Garden, Battle, Bickering, Card Games, Cookies, Dinosaurs, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Guardian Forces, Magic, Opposites Attract, Plothole Fill, Quetzalcoatl - Freeform, Rewrite, Rivalry, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Weirdly Resilient Clothing, in-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4526070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Manar/pseuds/Luna_Manar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In our need to be loved, we often stack the deck against ourselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ace of Spades

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on FFN in 2002. Although I have updated it to bring it more to par with my current writing, the style is somewhat different and there are some problems with the pacing and flow that would require extensive rewriting to address. However, I’ve had many readers over the years tell me that this is their favorite story of mine, so I don’t want to change it too drastically and risk turning it into something unrecognizable. Therefore, I’ve left the majority of the prose as it was. I fixed what I can, smoothed out what I can’t fix, and did some additional house-cleaning in-between.
> 
> All that said, I hope you enjoy this, even though the source material is over ten years old now.

 Ace of Spades

By Luna Manar

 

“ _It can be t_ _he most powerful or the least useful card in the deck. Which one depends on the game you play.”_

 

\--

 

Nighttime around nomadic Balamb Garden was graced with quiet radiance. Starlight flashed and dipped in the waves of a vast ocean, liquid diamonds accenting the golden glow of massive propulsion rings that shone beneath the sapphire waters. The Garden sat on a circular patch of luminescent emerald, treading the currents with the steadfast determination of an ancient sea ship bound for home.

But ‘home’ was a relative term, and Quistis had never felt farther from it. Halfway through the long journey to imperiled Trabia, Balamb Garden was preparing for the worst upon their arrival, readying to take on the casualties of the Galbadian missile attack. As the mobile campus trekked northward toward Selphie’s home, the familiar warmth of Balamb and the southern hemisphere faded away into memory, and an oppressive chill was beginning to taint the pleasant scent of the salty ocean breeze.

Quistis folded her arms and hugged herself, lithe-fingered hands gripping her elbows in an attempt to fend off both the cold and her anxiety. Wayward winds blew her hair in dry waves as she looked out over the ocean from her vantage on the east second-floor balcony. She stood just behind the metal balustrade, contemplating the jewel-encrusted surface of the water many meters below. A steely wind whipped past her, and she squared her stance to keep her balance as the Garden shifted gently beneath her feet in the wake of the starboard draft. She backed away from the view as the floor settled again, shivering at the thought of the unforgiving waters rising up to meet her.

Would that she could escape the cold current of her thoughts just now. A flood of muses thick with memories inundated her mind, too many rising feelings threatening to sunder the emotional dam she had built around herself.

The sight and smell of the ocean usually soothed her when she felt this uptight. But there was something sinister about this dark sea, an unfamiliar atmosphere hanging low over its surface like coils of predatory mist. Still, she resisted the urge to turn away from it; hiding from her misgivings would do her more harm than good.

Too many questions, too few answers. Why was the Sorceress looking for Ellone? Why this sudden attempt from Galbadia at world conquest? Cid had talked about SeeD’s ultimate mission. What was it?

All very important questions, but none of which plagued the ex-instructor’s mind just now.

_The Timber mission is over. Why is she still here?_

Alone in her reverie, Quistis dared to allow her eyes to shimmer. Still not a tear betrayed her.

She was privileged with so many things at Garden. A home, a life, friends—even a following of wannabes. There were so many people who knew about her, respected and even revered her. But on this chill night, she felt hollow. Everyone knew her name and what she could do, but no one ever so much as _asked_ her who she really was.

Which all would have been just fine, but for the fact that the one person she _needed_ to understand it all was the only cold shoulder who would never deign to care.

Then _she_ had come along. Quistis’ heart sank further into its self-realized abyss. If her chances to gain Squall’s respect had been slim before, they’d quickly eroded to nothing once _that girl_ had been brought into the picture.

She supposed it was just one of life’s cruel ironies. She didn’t dislike Rinoa at all--and that was half the problem. She _admired_ that intuitive impetuosity and outspoken gumption, for it was because of it it seemed Rinoa could get away with anything. Her timing was perfect, her sense for unacknowledged voids just as keen. She’d filled Squall’s in an instant, leaving Quistis no room to breathe.

It was a hard truth she found herself struggling to accept: she’d been outdone. In a heartbeat. By a spry upstart of a girl who hadn’t _existed_ for her before this fateful spring. That girl had walked up to Squall and uprooted him in the course of minutes--to _dance_ with her, of all things. True, she’d half-dragged him there, but the fact remained he had _allowed_ her to do it, and that in itself was a phenomenon Quistis had trouble stomaching.

Quistis knew she should have looked away, but she hadn’t. Watching them dance, once Squall had gotten the hang of it, had been as mesmerizing as it was punishing. Like so many accomplishments under Rinoa’s belt, it was an effort that had no business succeeding. But it had, and it was--dare she think it-- _magical._

Her mind returned forlornly to the comparison of her own failed attempt to puzzle through the now-commander’s impregnable shell. That impossibly clear night—it had been much like this one—and the image of his uncaring back and maned shoulders haunted her more than that of his distracted eyes. In a single sentence, he had made his position clear to her.

‘ _Go talk to a wall.’_

Since then, she’d found herself staring at walls quite often. But she never spoke to them.

How many things had she failed to do, since then? She’d failed as an instructor, failed to keep Seifer under rein, failed to follow orders during a critical SeeD mission, and, worst of all, failed to persuade a person, whom she held very dear, to so much as acknowledge her existence as a human being.

She was hailed by many people as being a prodigy. Why didn’t she feel so confident?

SeeD at 15, an instructor at 17. Multiple honors in as many fields of expertise…she could certainly say she was _accomplished_ , even though she hadn’t kept the instructor’s license. But what did success matter, if she had no one who cared enough to share it with her? Success was no substitute for acceptance.

Rinoa had certainly _shared_ that dance with Squall. _There must be something wrong with me,_ Quistis fretted, shifting her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. _I should be feeling jealous…but I don’t_. Indeed, she felt no resentment. Only bereft. Never in her life had she been so needful of a thing she could not name. She had thought it was love. Now, she was not so sure.

She was startled from behind by a sharp buzz that announced the door to the stairwell was about to open. A moment later it had, and through it walked Rinoa Heartilly.

 _Timing._ Quistis closed her eyes for a moment, letting her unfallen tears disperse beneath her eyelids before she looked to the side, where her visitor had come to stand next to her.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Rinoa disclaimed, resting her hands on the cold rim of the railing and leaning over a little to stare down at the water. “I was just wondering if you’d seen Squall.”

Quistis’s face hardened, and she mirrored Rinoa’s example, trying her best not to let her expression show as she answered. “Not recently.”

Rinoa smiled, seeming not to have heard the tightness in the SeeD’s voice. “Beautiful, right?”

“...Excuse me?”

“The water,” she clarified, standing straighter with an amicable glance. “I think it’s really pretty how the stars reflect in it. It’s even better on the other side of the Garden, where the moon is. It looks a little happier.”

“Oh yes,” Quistis replied blandly. “Yes, I suppose it is…”

Silent, Rinoa continued to stare out into the distance. The wind caught her hair as well, and for a time the two stood still, standard-bearers alone in the great expanse of the ocean.

Quistis observed her visitor curiously from the corners of her eyes, wondering how anyone could find the time during a crisis situation to contemplate something like how the light of the moon affected the mood of the sea. She wondered if the girl grasped the enormity of Trabia’s plight.

As if to challenge the SeeD’s critical thoughts, Rinoa turned to stare in the direction of the Garden’s path. “Do you think there will be anything left when we get there?”

Hesitating, Quistis again copied Rinoa’s actions, gazing sightlessly to the north where their destination lay. “It’s hard to say,” she answered finally. “Trabia Garden is a giant building, but, those missiles were powerful enough to level small mountains. If it was a direct hit, I don’t know if it could withstand the force.”

Rinoa’s next question was more delicate. “Do…do you think there will be any survivors?”

“That’s what we’re counting on.” It was the only answer Quistis could give.

“And Selphie…whatever happens, I hope she does all right. If there’s a lot of destruction, this will be hard for her.” Turning around suddenly, Rinoa aimed a curious, calculating stare in Quistis’ direction. “I know SeeDs go through a lot of training to prepare themselves for things like this, but Selphie is always so…chipper. She doesn’t act like a battle-hardened soldier.”

Quistis almost laughed. “What gave you the idea that _anything_ can prepare you for losing your home, your friends and your dreams?” She snapped her mouth shut on the last word. Rinoa visibly shrank away from her, frowning defensively.

“I…I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sighing, Quistis pressed the ends of her knuckles against her face, shook her head and leaned wearily on the balustrade. She felt like she might be seasick. Her voice softened and her eyes drew up sharply in frustrated repentance. “I’m sorry, Rinoa. I shouldn’t snap at you like that. I’ve been doing it to you ever since I first met you, and I’m sorry. I’m just a selfish perfectionist who’s finding out she’s not very perfect, after all.”

Smiling weakly, seeming unsure if she should offer sympathy or keep her distance, Rinoa went back to staring at the horizon. “Everyone has a right to be upset, considering…” She added before Quistis could respond, “I’m not a professional like you, but if you need to talk to someone, I’ll be glad to listen.”

Quistis waved the offer away with a weak, forced smile. “Oh, that’s all right. It’s…not necessary. I need time to think, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

“Be careful, or you’ll start to sound like Squall.”

Though the comment had been meant as a joke, Quistis couldn’t help wondering if the observation wasn’t in some way accurate. She looked hopefully to Rinoa’s bright gaze.

She’d waited too long, again. Rinoa had started for the door. “Br-r-r, it’s cold out here. Well, see you later, Quistis. I think I’ll look in the training center next.”

The hair rose along Quistis’ neck. “The training center?” Straightening, she turned on her heel and took a step after Rinoa, holding her arm out in warning. “Rinoa, you can’t do that. It’s dangerous in there.”

Rinoa stopped two steps from the door, half-twisting to shrug off the concern. “I’m going to find Squall. I’ve looked all over for him and I can’t think of another place he might be.” Smiling, she winked, as if she knew some great secret that Quistis did not. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

Quistis frowned. Did this girl have a death wish? “What do you want to say to him? I’ll give him the message.”

“Nothing. I just want to talk to him.”

“In the _training center?_ ”

“If that’s where he is, yes. What’s wrong with that?”

“You’ll be rexaur food if you set foot in there, _that’s_ what’s wrong with it!”

“It’s _okay,_ ” Rinoa assured her fervently. “I’ll arm myself first. I may not be a SeeD, but I know how to defend myself.”

“At least get someone else to go with you—“

Looking a little annoyed, and increasingly uncomfortable, Rinoa shook her head, this time in defiance of Quistis’ qualms. “ _Trust me,_ I’ll be all right. If I can’t fight, I’ll run away.”

“Don’t let your feelings make you do stupid things, Rinoa!”

Quistis silently berated herself for not taking her own advice. But her blood was up, and her frustration had claws. “You’re taken with him, aren’t you?” She pointed an accusatory finger. “Don’t try to hide it.” Her other hand balled into an involuntary fist at her side.

Struck dumb, Rinoa could only shake her head mutely, her mouth half-open and--for once--empty of words with which to respond.

Quistis fought her vicious fever, but the dam had already split, and there was no stopping the rush of fury that drove her words. “It’s so obvious. I don’t see why no one’s said anything. But it’s foolish, Rinoa. I’ll be the first to tell you, you’re barking up the wrong tree. You might be able to get Squall to be your comrade, but he’ll never be your friend. He’s too wrapped up in himself to be _anyone’s_ friend.”

Finally coming to her senses, Rinoa spat back before Quistis could finish breathing. “I suppose you’re the resident instructor on ‘Squall 101?’”

There is was again, that impossibly _perfect_ snipe. She didn’t know--couldn’t know--but it hit its mark all the same. _I used to think...oh, but what do I know? It doesn’t matter, now._ Another surge of anger pushed aside her self-pity and she mustered the will to follow through. “You’re trying to get close enough to the world’s sturdiest poker-face that you might get a look at his cards.” She motioned sharply with her arms, as if moving in time with her words might somehow make them sink deeper. “No one ever has, and in the end, you’re going to end up folding just like everyone else.” She took another intimidating step toward her target, completing her round before any fast retort could counter it: “When it comes to getting personal, Squall is an ace of spades. If you gamble with him, you’d better have a strong hand, or be ready to receive the royal flush—down the toilet.”

Then, just as suddenly as it had come on, the red torrent was over. Quistis stood where she was, drained of her rage. A fear colder than the sea began to creep around her heart. She’d lost it. And now she was going to pay for it.

Rinoa’s uncharacteristically stolid expression preceded her quiet, unarguable reply. “You’re no queen of hearts, yourself.”

Quistis stiffened, willing herself not to turn her head. But she could not bring herself to meet Rinoa’s stare any longer. Slowly, her eyes fell to the steel plates of flooring beneath her feet. Her arms, suddenly weak and limp by her sides, struggled to regain the chill-fighting self-embrace she had adopted only minutes ago. The air was icier than it had ever been.

Rinoa carefully stepped away from the door and returned to the balustrade, giving Quistis a wide berth. She stood with one hand on the railing, her face tilted toward the sky. “I don’t like to fight with people,” she muttered calmly, then looked away from the stars and fixed her eyes on Quistis’s blank, averted expression. Her voice gained in volume. “But let me tell you something, and this may be cliché, but it’s true.” Her feet shifted slightly so that she was facing the SeeD directly. “You can’t do anything unless you try.”

Confused, having expected a rebuke and gotten none, Quistis dared to cast Rinoa a puzzled look.

“I’ve been told in the past that my ‘infatuation’ with the resistance would never amount to anything.” Again Rinoa gazed down at the water. “Maybe it didn’t play out like I had it planned, but I’ve come a long way, and I’m not going to turn back, even if the situation looks hopeless. I tried to free Timber, and I still mean to do just that. If it means becoming part of something much bigger than myself, okay. I’ll plan what I can and roll with the punches.” Pacing to the edge of the balcony, she leaned on the railing, reclaiming her past occupation observing the reflection of diamonds in the waters. She continued to talk over her shoulder, loud enough for Quistis to hear if she listened. “Squall has helped me so much since I first met him. I don’t know if that’s because he wants to, or because it’s his job, but he’s gone through a lot because of me. He’s worked really hard.” She added her next admission quietly. “I admire him.” She closed her eyes.

Quistis watched her intently, intrigued by the suddenly distant attitude, and further surprised to hear no trace of animosity in her words.

“I know he’s not perfect, but who is? He does the best he knows how to do. You said yourself he was just commissioned.” Pulling herself from the wind, she turned toward Quistis and pointed above them in the general direction of what had once been Cid’s office, was now the bridge of their giant moving base. “Now, he’s in command, and I’ll guarantee you he never saw that coming. He did it anyway, and he’s a good commander, even though he has almost no experience. Do you have any idea what it must be like, going from a raw cadet to a respected leader in a few weeks? I know I don’t.” She folded her hands behind her back, stepped forward on one foot and looked pensively up at the stars. “What is it like to be him…?” Relaxing, she directed her questions at Quistis’ patient audience. “What is he always hiding? How does he do it? Sometimes I wish I could do the same. But you and I both know that you can’t do everything by yourself. I think the only way he can keep from going crazy from the pressure is by holding it all inside so he doesn’t have to deal with it. If he looks okay, then people will _think_ he’s okay. And if people think he’s okay, he feels more in control. There’s probably more to it, but that’s what I see.” Her already serious expression darkened further. “Eventually it’ll get to him. When it does…”

A particularly strong blast of wind rocked the Garden, interrupting Rinoa’s speech and forcing both she and Quistis to fight for balance.

Once the bucking floor settled, Rinoa finished her sentence as though nothing unusual had happened. “I wanna be there. I think he really cares about everybody. I want to know if that’s true.” She brushed her arm slightly to rid it of a few drops of sea spray. “And even if I’m wrong, I still went the distance to prove it. There won’t be anything to regret.”

Quistis stood motionless, wordless. She wasn’t sure what to say, if anything. If she’d had the words to answer, she doubted she could find the motor skills to speak them at the moment. Her entire face felt numb.

Finally, Rinoa moved toward the door again. Chill bumps were prominent on her arms and legs. She didn’t seem to notice them. She paused in front of Quistis. A sympathetic smile touched her cheeks. “Poker’s not the only card game, you know. In hearts, the most dangerous card can also win the game. If you choose to keep it, it’s all or nothing. You either shoot the moon, or you lose your shirt.” Her smile faded, replaced by a solemn, pale mask that did not obscure a sudden sadness in her dark eyes. “Either way...my life is more than a game to me. Believe me, if I’m willing to ante up, I’m just as willing to take the fall. What amazes me the most about Squall is that no one _else_ here seems to take my bet seriously. I only offer what I have to give. If that’s not enough…so be it. At least I did my best.” Waiting for a few moments, she searched the SeeD’s eyes to gauge if she would receive an answer. Finding none present, she slowly turned away and disappeared beyond the heavy steel door.

Quistis did not follow her. She stared instead at the waters below and began to count the seconds until she would once again feel anything other than the painless ache behind her ribs.

 

-

 

_**SNAP. CRASH. BOOM. THUD. SNAP, SNAP.** _

“Hi!”

Squall cringed.

He knelt at the edge of the devastated balcony that had once led to the “Secret Area.” The Garden’s sudden departure had ripped its foundations in two, and no one came here anymore, as it was useless for romantic outings in its current state. No one, that is, except Squall, and for that very reason.

That is, until now.

Peering disdainfully over his shoulder, Squall narrowed his eyes at Rinoa, who, from the looks of it, had just partaken in a lively game of cat-and-mouse with a thirty-foot monster. He watched with bored detachment as an angry rexaur snapped, snorted and clawed at the narrow doorway. Alas, the walls of the training area were perfectly capable of holding up to the battering of ten dinosaurs of such size, and the ancient beast’s attempts at pursuing his prey were ultimately futile.

He sighed and looked away as Rinoa padded over to him. “Do you always make that much noise when you walk through a room?” he growled irritably.

Rinoa plopped down beside him, letting her legs hang over the torn metal edge of the floor. On her left wrist she wore the odd crossbow-like chakram-launcher. The other hand held a small bag of bite-sized cookies. “I _tried_ to tell him cookies are bad for you, but he wouldn’t listen.”

This said, she popped one of the snacks in her mouth, swinging her legs lightly. She glared over her shoulder at the rexaur, who, seeming to realize he was out of a meal, gave a plaintive moan and stomped off in search of easier quarry.

Squall glanced at her, then at the icy waters far below, considering her precarious position. No fence barred either of them from falling over the edge and plunging to their deaths. “If you fall, I’m not gonna dive in and save you,” he muttered gravely.

“I won’t fall. What are you doing here?”

“…Just wanted to be alone.”

“What else is new?” She loudly munched another cookie.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Squall bit his tongue, regretting the question; what did he care, and the last thing he needed was to invite a conversation. Mentally kicking himself, he stared at his gunblade, which lay by his side. _Perfect. Now I’m in it for the long-haul._

“Came to find you,” Rinoa answered him, predictably. “Thought you might want some company.”

Squall snorted in derision at her reasoning. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

She held out a cookie to him. “Want one? It’s chocolate chip.”

He didn’t look at her. “No.”

Her hand didn’t move. “I won’t leave unless you take it.”

 _...Is she serious?_ Taking a breath to bide his patience, Squall leveled a malevolent stare at her and snatched the cookie from her fingers. Then he waited, watching her expectantly and holding the cookie suspended in his grasp a few inches over the floor. Finally he nodded toward the door. “Aren’t you gonna leave?”

She returned his stare gamely. “I never said I’d leave immediately.”

Squall’s fist tightened around the cookie, noisily crushing it.

Rinoa raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna try it?” She pointed at his clenched fist.

“You never said I had to eat it.” Opening his hand and holding it over the edge, Squall brushed the cookie’s deplorable remains into the sea.

Rinoa sighed and upended the bag of cookies into the water far below. “At least some fish will be happy.” She crumpled up the bag and placed it on the floor beside her, then pulled her legs up, leaning back on her hands.

Squall finished dusting his gloves off and resumed his silent vigil of the sea, deciding that as long as Rinoa didn’t say too much, he could tune her out and think at the same time. Much as she seemed to enjoy imposing on his free time, she wasn’t usually _too_ annoying as long as he didn’t try to get rid of her. She would let him muse undisturbed, unless she had a question that was relevant to something. He could not help noticing, however, that even when she let him do this, his thoughts usually ended up revolving around her. Curious how that worked, the mind straying toward issues having to do with the people in the immediate vicinity. He’d never noticed it before.

“What happened to this place?”

Duly interrupted, Squall ran his fingers over the twisted metal of the Secret Area’s sundered edge. “Used to be a balcony,” he explained. “Got ripped up when the Garden took off. It’s been blocked off ever since.”

“Oh, I see.” Rinoa laughed. “A perfect place to be alone, since no one’s allowed to come here anymore.”

And yet she had found him here. Squall shook his head. “I guess not.” She laughed again. He wondered why. The sound made the hairs rise at the back of his neck, though he couldn’t quite call the chill uncomfortable. Squall usually hated the sharp disruptiveness of laughter, but Rinoa’s was different, smoother.

“Any reason you’re here, other than that?”

“Just got bored.” Taking up his gunblade and standing in the same motion, Squall shouldered his weapon and turned toward the exit.

Rinoa hooked her hands around one of her knees, letting her head fall back behind her shoulders so she could stare up at him, playfully inverted. “You get bored easily? Maybe you need to find a way to make everyday life more interesting.”

He stood still for a moment, not looking at her. Then he started for the door without a word.

Rinoa did a backward somersault onto her feet, blocking his way as she straightened up. Pretending that cutting him off had been a coincidence of her maneuver, she flicked a wayward hair from her face and toyed with the plain silver ring on her necklace. “Hey, um…I was just thinking, are you hungry? I mean, _I_ am, but the cafeteria is closed.”

Squall motioned dismissively with his free hand. “You’ll have to wait until morning. They don’t serve anyone after 1900 hours.”

She did not move. “Isn’t there a vending machine or something? Just a snack?”

He shook his head, searching the floor for a solution. “This isn’t a hotel resort,” he growled, irritated at being kept at bay for so long. “We don’t offer a lot of the accommodations you might be used to.”

“I asked for a snack, not a gourmet dinner.”

“So go find one.” Pushing past her, he walked through the door and down the ramp leading into the training center. “I can’t help you.”

Rinoa followed him stubbornly, but smartly readied her weapon as she left the relative safety of the ravaged balcony. “You must be a master of all-nighters,” she blurted as she fell in stride. “ I’ll bet you ace written tests and essays left and right.”

Squall turned away from the path, his feet glancing off a series of rocks across an artificial stream. He landed firmly on the other side and moved up the bank. It was a shortcut he’d taken many times before, a beeline for the exit. “What makes you say that?” He didn’t wait for Rinoa to stumble over the river rocks, was already meters away when she finally managed to reach the opposite edge.

Unperturbed, she ran to catch up with him, wringing out the blue train of her outfit. “Because,” she asserted, “you’re always so focused, even when you don’t care that much about what’s going on. I’ve never been like that. I always get distracted when I’m bored. I can’t finish a project unless it means something to me.”

“With an attitude like that, it’s no wonder your resistance effort was so puny.” They slowed down as they approached a looming boulder behind a plume of palm trees. Keeping close to the stone, Squall edged around the obstacle, wary of anything living that might be stalking nearby.

Not to be outdone, Rinoa followed his example and watched their backs. “That’s why we hired you. You not only failed in our cause, you failed to assassinate the sorceress, too, and that was an order from Garden. I guess even trained professionals mess up sometimes.”

Squall stopped. He scowled sideways at her. “If you have a complaint, take it up with Xu.”

“Actually, I’m surprised we all came out alive in the end.” She seemed to debate with herself for a moment. “I think you did a good job. I’d hire you again.” As Squall’s eyes narrowed skeptically, she continued before he could respond, speaking quickly. “Not that I have to. Timber still isn’t free, and until it is, you’re stuck with me.”

“Wonderful.” He looked deliberately to one side for a moment—a motion Rinoa had come to understand was a Squall-ish version of rolling eyes. She watched as he leaned back for a moment against the stone and examined a chink in the metal of his weapon.

“I was wondering,” she ventured, curious why he’d chosen to stop. “Once you become a SeeD, how long do you stay in service?”

Squall emptied the chambers of four used shells and went about replacing them with new ones. “As long as you’re able.”

“Oh.” She nodded, seeming surprised, but accepting the answer. “Think you’ll be doing this your whole life?”

 _I’ll probably die doing it._ “I don’t know.”

“Well, I hope you stay around. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have on my side, even if you are a hired hand.”

Squall slapped the cylinder in place and gave it a short spin. Apparently satisfied, he lowered the gunblade’s tip to the grass and pinned Rinoa with a hard look. “I never asked to be on your side.”

“But you are,” she shot back. “It’s your duty. If you don’t like it, maybe you’re in the wrong job.” She grinned wickedly, unfazed by his deepening scowl. “There are less dangerous things. I could see you as a hotel manager—you’ve got the organization skills for it—or a martial arts teacher.”

Squall turned away. “I’m not interested in those things.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you care what I do for a living?”

“Mercenary business is dangerous work,” she answered carefully. “You’ve already gotten hurt a few times. I care about you…just like I would care about any friend.”

About to leave, Squall suddenly found his feet unable to move. Unsure which word had nailed to the floor and annoyed that he could let himself fall prey to it, he pivoted around to face Rinoa. _A friend?_ That was it. His attention, previously divided between his conversation and the jungle around him, focused solely on her. His voice quieted dangerously. “What makes you think I’m your friend?”

Rinoa stood a little taller, steeling herself. “Well, even if you’re not. I’m _your_ friend. I wouldn’t expect you to be mine. I bet you’re probably not supposed to start caring about any of your clients, right? Don’t let emotions or sympathy get in the way of your job.”

Feeling peculiarly unsettled, Squall nodded slowly, certain he was being baited. “…That’s right.”

“I see…” Folding her hands behind her, Rinoa took a few tentative steps toward him, her gaze fixed on the ground at his feet. “So you just…go by the contract, right?”

“I do what I have to do.”

“What about what you _want_ to do?”

“If it’s left up to me, I’ll do whatever makes sense.”

“Soooo,” suddenly smiling, Rinoa leaned forward a little, hands still clasped behind her, eyes bright and knowing. It was an expression and a stance Squall had come to dread from her. It meant she had him right where she wanted him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. “It makes _sense_ to fight your way through a monster-infested jungle and hide away on a half-broken balcony where no one is allowed to come, so you can be alone.”

“…Yeah.” Now he _knew_ it was a trap. He was also curious.

“Annnd, it makes sense to take me on a tour of the Garden, and then a walk, and then to a concert, just to get me to shut up.”

“I guess so.”

“Then it must also stand to reason that SeeD officers fresh out of training make pretty lousy commanders.”

“So?” Squall jerked his arm at the air in silent protest. _What’s her point?_

Whether Rinoa took the hint, or if she had simply run out of things to cite, she was silent long enough for a wild bird to cry out twice from high in the canopy. “Let’s see...I found you in your hiding place, you never got me to shut up, and I think most people will agree you’ve been a pretty successful leader.” She smiled. “Tell me if I’m missing something, but so far, it looks like your whole philosophy is fundamentally flawed.”

This time, Squall did roll his eyes. _I don’t have time for this. We’ll be arriving soon._ Nevertheless, his feet remained glued to the ground.“I didn’t come here to have my ‘philosophy’ questioned by _you._ ”

“Is it really any worse than mulling over everything yourself?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe _not._ ” She walked deliberately toward him. “There’s a lighter side of the coin, Squall.”

“Whatever.” He should have known better: the ambush had worked, and now he felt like a rabbit squirming in the jaws of a wolf. All he wanted to do was get away to some dark, silent hole where he could be still and safe. Squall pulled his feet loose and got walking, fast.

He did not get far. Rinoa ran to catch up and again planted herself in his way. Her brown eyes seemed brighter than usual. “Does it really bother you so much that people care enough to wonder why you do the things you do?” Squall tried to move around her, but she matched him step for step. “ _Well?”_

Finally he stopped, slashing violently at the air beside him. “If they’re wasting their time thinking about my state of mind, maybe they’re in the _wrong job._ ”

“Being someone’s friend isn’t a job. It’s a privilege.”

Squall snarled wordlessly. _A ‘privilege’ you just gave to yourself? You can’t have it both ways._ “Yeah?” he snapped, raising his voice until it boomed off the high-domed ceiling. “How’s that? I never offered you anything. Stop trying to get to know me. You can’t begin to. No one can, and I want it that way.” He stepped toward her menacingly, and for the first time, she retreated a few paces. “You wanna be my ‘friend.’ You wanna show me the ‘lighter side’ of life. Well let me tell you something.” His blue eyes flashed. “There is no lighter side in my world. You think if you spend enough time around me you might figure me out? I’ll help you. _I don’t give a damn._ ” Rinoa flinched, but he went on relentlessly, fighting to free himself of her platitudes. “You and everyone else seem to think you can turn me away from reality just because it’s more comfortable for you. I’ve got news. I don’t want your compassion. I don’t care about you, your resistance, or anyone, or any _thing_ else, and if you don’t believe it, you’re even stupider than the _rest_ of the morons who think I’m cut out to be SeeD’s heroic leader!”

His roar echoed through the training center. The birds were now silent.

Rinoa was holding her breath, shaken, hurting from his words. She felt her resolve begin to falter. He was so angry—she couldn’t ever remember seeing him like this. It was terrifying.

‘ _You’re going to fold.’_

She shook her head to clear it. _No,_ she declared to herself. _I won’t run this time. I’m_ not _backing down!_ Her eyes quivered, and she swallowed her tears. Suddenly, she was in his face, firing back at him with as much ferocity. “You sure know how to put up a fight, don’t you? No wonder you scare so many people away.” Repressing a smile at his subsequent look of surprise, she pressed her advantage. “Well I don’t buy it. Is the reason you let Selphie lead the mission to the missile base because you didn’t give a damn? _Tell_ me you and Irvine came to rescue me from the gargoyles because it was just protocol.” She took a step forward, and to her satisfaction, he cede the ground. “You could have said ‘stay close to Irvine,’ but you didn’t. You told me to stay close to _you._ ” She straightened up, nearly face to face with him. “There’s a _person_ behind those eyes, Squall, and I can see _straight_ through to him.”

“Whatever,” Squall growled, foundering in his surprise.

She coughed a humorous laugh, pressing her newfound bravado. “Oh, _spare_ me. That just means you’re too scared to answer. You’re not as tough as you look. You’re just tough enough to fake it. But one of these days, you’re going to be faced with something that’s so much bigger than you, going it alone won’t even be an _option._ ”

For a time, Squall and Rinoa stood still by the stone, and there were no more words. Just two angry faces and a pair of bruised hearts, both nursing invisible wounds.

Squall dared to speak first, quietly, shaking his head. “Why are you doing this?”

She was only too ready with her level answer: “Because I’m the only person you _can’t_ scare away. Show me your cards, Squall. I’m calling your bluff.”

His eyes were thin and cold, silently judging her seriousness. Rinoa held fast to her resolve as she watched him size her up, refusing to give him the blanch he’d need to jump on her claims and tear them to pieces.

Finally he spoke, sounding miles away though he stood only a few paces from her. His lips barely moved as he asked, “What if you’re right, and this fantasy you’ve conjured up is true? So what? What then?”

Rinoa blinked deliberately, never once looking away. Her expression remained unchanged. “That’s up to you.”

“And what if you’re wrong about me? What have you lost?”

“Someone I care about very much. Not only that…” Her dark glare became grave with warning. “If I’m wrong, then Cid made a very serious mistake choosing you to lead this Garden. If I’m wrong, Squall, it won’t just be me who suffers. Everyone will.” Her eyes softened as she whispered sadly, “Especially you.”

A deep growl tore the heavy air. A small tree went down across the river.

Startled, Rinoa twisted in the direction of the disturbance. “What was that?”

“Take cover! Stay near the rock!”

She knew better than to question Squall’s command. Ducking the inferred danger, she backed herself against the stone obstacle, searching frantically about for an attacker. At first she saw nothing.

Not even Squall. He had vanished.

A harsh grunt and heavy footsteps heralded the arrival of a young rexaur. It crashed into the small clearing beside the river and leapt across, landing with a ground-shaking thud and continuing in a lumbering canter up the bank. It was smaller than the beast that had chased Rinoa before, its thick hide a little redder, its stripes a little paler, but it was no less fearsome, and certainly nimbler. To Rinoa’s horror, its hungry eyes found her. Uttering a thunderous growl, the dinosaur lunged toward her at a full charge, mouth agape, teeth bared and ready to slice into their next meal.

A name caught in Rinoa’s throat and stammered past her lips. “S…S, Squall?”

Had he left her here to die?

She threw herself to the side as the massive jaws snapped closed on empty air where its prey once stood. Unable to stop its charge, the dinosaur cracked its head against the stone. Snarling, the rexaur backed up and lashed its powerful tail. To Rinoa’s astonishment, it did not even seem fazed by the impact, and turned readily toward her to resume its attack.

Eyes wide, she readied the strongest ice spell she had stored away, all the while knowing that this would not be a battle she could possibly win on her own. The larger rexaur she had encountered before was too big and slow to easily catch a nimble human in close quarters, but this half-grown beast was swift enough on its toes to outrun and outmaneuver her before she would have the chance to make it to the safety bridge.

She held her breath. The dinosaur lunged.

One of two giant bounds away from its intended snack, the young rexaur bellowed in anger as he was ambushed from above; Squall leapt from the top of the boulder, coming down hard on the beast’s back and driving his weapon point-first into its shoulder.

Halting its charge, roaring in pain and struggling for purchase in the muddy ground as the force of the SeeD’s assault knocked it off-balance, the rexaur twisted its neck around to grab at its attacker with its mighty jaws, fully intent on plucking a tasty, if pesky morsel from its back.

Squall had no intention of making it easy. He kept just behind its neck, out of sight and reach, and roughly yanked his gunblade free of the animal’s rocky flesh. Holding tightly as the rexaur bucked and bellowed in pain, he brought a blinding spell to his mind.

The telltale jingle of another spell being cast somewhere close made him hesitate. A chill blast of dry air rushed around him. The rexaur screamed in outrage and frustration as the lower half of its body was suddenly trapped in an explosive growth of ice.

Rinoa must have decided to help, instead of run. _Damn it, get back!_ “I told you to hide!” With the beast distracted, Squall chanced sliding down its side to the ground. It was a choice he regretted.

Thrashing to free itself from its freezing shackles, the rexaur’s head swung around just as Squall jumped. Its hooked teeth caught the vagrant edge of his coat, and the jaws slammed shut on the leather prize. Growling triumphantly, the dinosaur snapped its head back, snatching Squall from the air and dangling him high above the ground.

Sensation pinched off as his ever-resilient jacket tightened around his shoulders, the gunblade fell from Squall’s nerveless hand. Still, he counted his blessings and tried to think of a way out of his predicament; if the rexaur had been a full-grown adult, the sheer strength of the beast would have been enough to snap every bone in his body whilst he was being shaken like a dog. He couldn’t blind it now, unable to see its eyes to target them. But--

A sudden _click_ preceded a saurian snarl of pain and the release of the pressure on his arms. The rexaur had let go of him to gnaw at a round blade that had imbedded itself inches into its thick flank.

Fingers still prickling as circulation returned to them, Squall landed on his feet, managing to snatch up his gunblade as ran toward Rinoa. “Let’s go! While it’s busy…” He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the rexaur, whose foot was still marred in the ice while it tried fruitlessly to reach the painful steel lodged in its side.

Rinoa didn’t argue. Abandoning her weapon, she and Squall sprinted for the bridge leading to the exit and safety.

They had only come a few yards toward their goal when a cascade of deafening roars all but knocked them backward. Squall stopped and Rinoa ran into him, stumbling before regaining her balance by his side.

When she looked up again, any hope she might have had of making it out of the training center unscathed vanished. Before she realized what she was doing, she’d grabbed hold of Squall’s arm, fingers locking tightly around his elbow.

“…He must have really wanted those cookies.”

His rare quip was lost on her mind as she stared up at the towering figure of the gargantuan rexaur she had fled before. It was house-sized, a monster even for its species, and quite a contrast to the half-grown creature that had attacked them moments ago. And it had brought friends.

Three more rexaurs, looking very hungry, followed in the lead dinosaur’s tracks. Their bloodthirsty blue eyes fell on Squall and Rinoa as though targeting them.

Rinoa frowned at these unwelcome arrivals. “Who _puts_ these things in here?”

The young rexaur behind them yanked the chakram from his flank. With triumphant bluster, it broke free of the ice and, limping only slight, closed in on the two humans in the narrow stretch of open ground.

Squall snatched his arm away from Rinoa’s frightened grasp. “Now you’ve done it,” he snarled.

She gawked at him. “ _I’ve_ done it?! If it weren’t for me, you’d be that little one’s dinner by now!”

“I still might be. And if it weren’t for _you_ casting that spell _,_ I could have blinded him and we wouldn’t have to worry about all this in the first place.” Holding his sword ready, Squall searched the circle of tooth-filled maws for any possible routes of escape.

The impatient young rexaur charged. Squall finally got the chance to cast his spell. Suddenly blinded, the creature tried to stop and slipped on the wet grass. Squall and Rinoa stepped to either side of the beast as it slid, backpedaling, into the throng of other rexaurs, tripping two of them. The big leader snorted irately and shoved its blind, flailing brethren down the side of a small ravine. The hapless rexaur clawed desperately at the insubstantial ground as it tumbled, finally splashing into the shallow creek two dozen feet below.

Their prey used the distraction of the hapless dinosaur to beat a hasty escape.

More cognizant than their young friend, the other rexaurs pursued in heavy bounds, splitting into two pairs. The largest of the four chased behind the fleeing humans, the smaller pair circling around to try and trap them.

Squall ducked into a convenient thicket, Rinoa close at his heels. He spied a particularly thick collection of ginkgos, and quickly darted in the midst of them, stopping only when he was certain the rexaurs could no longer see him. Keeping low and watching from his vantage point as the huge creatures searched and sniffed the area, he finally calmed down enough to shoot a furious glare at Rinoa, who was crouched beside him. “If we get out of this alive, I’m having you confined to quarters.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s not my fault you’re so antisocial. Next time, go hang out in a _normal_ place, like the Quad.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“Then ask me if I care.”

Squall put his free hand to his forehead, snarling through his teeth. “At least I know what I’m doing. You can’t walk through a place without attracting every apex predator in the area.” _No one’s ever caused me this much trouble!_

Rinoa shot him a meaningful, mirthless smirk. “All except one.”

A loud _crack_ erupted near the ground beside Squall. For a moment, the entire training area went silent. Even Rinoa’s face went blank.

Slowly, Squall looked down at his right hand. He grit his teeth and willed himself not to spit every vulgarity he knew. The barrel of his gunblade was smoking.

Four excited roars rocked the training dome.

Rinoa raised an eyebrow as they got up to run. “Nice one. While we’re at it, why don’t I wave them over here?”

“Go ahead. They can eat you while I escape.”

There was no more time for arguing; the rexaurs were on them again. Four giant heads burst through the thicket, but they had more trouble dislodging the wall of brambles entangled about their heads than they had punching through it. Their smaller quarry slipped easily through a break in the foliage.

Squall headed for the bridge. The moat beneath was too wide for the rexaurs to leap, and the bridge itself was designed to drop away if anything large enough attempted to cross.

He heard a cry and a light _thud_. “Squall!”

Stopping long enough to look behind him, he saw Rinoa had tripped, and was scrambling to get up as the largest rexaur bore down on her at an earth-shaking gallop.

“Damn!” _This is insane. She’s too far away--_ He turned on his heel and rushed the incoming dinosaur. Swinging his weapon behind him, he shouted a warning at her. “Get down!”

Even with the dinosaur thundering toward her, Rinoa ducked rolled back to the ground and narrowly missed being snapped up.

The rexaur’s misjudgment cost it: sharp metal edge of the gunblade’s upward slide connected solidly with its sensitive snout. It yanked back its head and clawed the ground, dizzied by the powerful scent of its own blood.

Squall dragged Rinoa to her feet seconds before the beast lost its balance and crashed to the ground. They fled for the bridge as the other three rexaurs tore after them. _Not enough time._ Cumbersome as the rexaurs were, once they got up speed, they could outrun a human in a few strides.

The urgent summons went out: in seconds, a familiar presence in his mind answered. Even as he ran, he focused, and was rewarded with a curious sparkling through his nerves and the giddy sense of hollow weightlessness that denoted the protective phasing of a Guardian Force.

A flash of blue lightning signaled Quetzal’s arrival. Squall and Rinoa finally made it to the bridge and dashed across, stopping once they reached the other side to turn and watch, panting, as two of the three pursuing rexaurs were intercepted by the giant, screeching bird. Lightning splayed in the Guardian’s wake, showering its targets with stinging bolts of superheated energy. Startled and spooked by the painful light and noise, two of the giants turned tail and retreated, stepping on their struggling leader as they fled. The last rexaur ducked under the bird as it vanished in a spray of sparks and continued his fevered chase, only to drop like a brick as the safety bridge gave way beneath its clawed feet. It plummeted, bellowing, into the shallow water of the ravine.

Still shaking from fright, Rinoa grinned weakly. “Well…we’re alive.”

Squall didn’t get the chance to answer. Another loud bellow echoed off the walls as the young rexaur, having found some way of scrambling up the steep side of the moat, leaped out from the brush beside him and swung its heavy head, landing a hit with its muzzle directly in the center of his chest. The blow sent him reeling. Somehow, he managed to hold on to his weapon, but he lost his breath as it was knocked from his lungs, and in another moment the rexaur was on top of him.

“Get _away!”_

A weight fell on his chest, but to his surprise, it was not the rexaur’s foot that was draped across him as the beast’s toothy maw descended toward his head. In what he could only guess was a natural reflex, his free arm clutched Rinoa against him. He flinched, expecting to feel the deadly crush of the monster’s teeth.

A light _whoosh_ cut the air directly above him, followed by the sound of clinking chains and a muffled, angry-sounding snarl. Squall opened his eyes, finding himself far more confused than dead.

The dinosaur still hovered over him, but the only teeth he could see were the ones long enough to protrude beyond its upper lip; a strong chain-link snare was wrapped thrice around the beast’s muzzle, holding its jaws shut. It was straining in a futile effort to snap the bonds.

Squall let his head fall back against the ground and released the exhausted breath he’d been holding for the past ten seconds. He closed his eyes, silently grateful they had been saved.

 _They._ Right.

Growling deep in his chest, Squall let go of Rinoa and held his arm away from her, as if he’d touched something unspeakably filthy. She was lying splayed out on top of him, clinging to him and trembling, seemingly unaware that the danger to both their lives had finally passed. He continued to stare darkly at her until she finally came to her senses and lifted her head, raising her gaze enough to meet his venomous scowl.

She grinned sheepishly, red painting her cheeks, embarrassingly aware of her position astride him.

Squall spoke very slowly. “I’m only gonna say this once,” he told her in a tight, strained voice, pronouncing his next words very, _very_ clearly. "Get Off Me _._ ”

Their savior chose that moment to come closer, standing tall over Squall’s head and holding tight to the chain whip that held the strangely quiet young rexaur in tow. Quistis smirked as she stared down at Squall’s cross expression. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Quickly standing up and removing herself from Squall’s vicinity, Rinoa dusted herself off, as if dirt were the greatest of her problems. “Only a dinosaur’s dinner,” she said, sounding calmer than she felt.

Squall sat up, in the process finding himself face-to-face with a muzzled and paralytically perplexed rexaur. Snarling, he shoved the scaly nose out of his face and stood up, hooking his weapon at his belt looked off toward the ravine. Three of the rexaurs were long gone. The biggest one was only now managing to stand upright again. He glanced at the relatively small one ensnared by Quistis’ whip. The poor beast looked utterly puzzled, completely unused to being this close to three potential meals whilst unable to open its mouth. It looked from Quistis to Rinoa and then Squall, as if begging one of them to free it so that it might feast on the lot of them.

Quistis walked calmly up to the befuddled creature and gave it a sympathetic pat on the head, as if it were nothing more dangerous than a chocobo. She looked from Rinoa to Squall and back. “Do you two always make that much noise walking through a room?”

Squall and Rinoa exchanged sideways looks.

Squall folded his arms and stared at a plant.

Rinoa put her hand to her face and shook her head, laughing.

 

-

 

“You saved me.”

Rinoa walked with Squall down the quiet breezeway connecting the training center to the heart of Balamb Garden. The corridor was well-lit despite the dimness of its walls; above, the moon shone brightly through the windowed structure, and stars joined in the radiance on their tireless journey through the heavens. Rinoa’s attention was focused on the nighttime splendor, though her words were for her reluctant companion.

Squall paid the common celestial light show no heed whatsoever. “No I didn’t.”

Rinoa grinned, finally coming back down to earth. “You did so! You got between me and that thing’s teeth. That counts as saving me.”

“…You’re incorrigible.”

She grinned as they passed under a short stretch of windowless connectors and emerged into the huge expanse of the Garden’s center. “That’s right. And I won’t quit until I see a bag of potato chips and a soda. I’m still hungry.”

Squall stopped and stared at her. _Still at it, huh?_ “If I show you where there is one, will you leave me alone?”

“Deal. Just for today, though. Tomorrow I’ll be hungry again.”

Relieved that the solution to his problem had been so simple, the grouchy, tired SeeD resumed his course toward the dorms. “Come on. I know Zell keeps a stash in his dorm. I’ll see if he’s willing to part with some of it.”

Rinoa sneered at the idea of eating anything ‘stashed’ in Zell’s room. “I don’t know…maybe I should just go steal something from the cafeteria.”

Squall suppressed a groan. Rinoa was, technically, _his_ guest. If she did anything regrettable, _he_ would be accountable for her actions, since he had let her into the Garden in the first place. She had already almost gotten him killed—numerous times—and the last thing he needed was for her to start snatching things from the Garden’s precious food stores. “I wanna have a job when I wake up in the morning.”

“I’ll be quiet. Promise.”

“You and what track record? I don’t wanna have to explain to Dr. Love what you were doing choking on potato chips in the kitchen at two in the morning.”

She interrupted him before he could say anything else. “Did you just use the word, ‘love’?” Her voice quivered with a barely contained laugh.

Squall bit his tongue. _Big mistake._ “No.”

“I can’t believe it. I didn’t even think you’d say it in a joke.”

“Don’t get too excited…” At the end of the dormitory breezeway, he turned into the men’s wing and headed for the end of the hallway.

“Wow,” Rinoa muttered as they moved down the shadowed row. “The dorms are really dark at night.”

“Probably because everyone’s _supposed_ to be asleep,” he pointed out. ”Quiet.” Finally stopping in front of Zell’s room, he motioned for Rinoa to stay behind him and knocked once, trying not to be too loud, himself.

No answer.

Sighing, he tried again—pounding a little louder this time. Behind him, Rinoa winced with each knock.

Thankfully, Zell was a light sleeper. A muffled, yawn-thickened voice drifted to them from beyond the door. “Wuah…? Whuizit?”

Squall tried to be casual. “It’s Squall.”

There was a short, shocked pause. “Y’know wha’ time it is, man?”

“Open up, I wanna talk to you.”

“Ohhhay, ohay…ahm humin’…” The door slid open with a quiet _vvp_. Zell leaned on the door frame, in his night clothes, looking like a blue dragon had chewed him up and spit him out. Dark streaks lined the underside of his eyelids, and the left half of his crest of blonde hair was sticking out sideways from his head, as if someone had shoved it through his brain. He blinked sleep from his eyes as he tried to make sense of the odd scene he saw in front of him. “What is this, a late-night date?”

Squall felt his blood start to boil. _Why does everyone think that--_ “She wants something to eat,” he answered, his tone no more agitated than usual. “Wouldn’t leave me alone until I got her something. I know you’ve got food stashed away somewhere.”

Zell scratched at his lopsided hair. “Huh?” A vicious growl from Squall made him remember. “Oh…yeah, but I—”

“Just chips and a drink, that’s all she wants.”

“Hey,” Zell snapped, suddenly awake, “this ain’t a fast food joint. I’m not taking orders.”

 _Come on, Zell, just this_ once, _don’t give me an attitude!_ Squall had an idea. It wasn’t particularly fair, akin to something Seifer would pull, but it was the only way to procured for Rinoa her snack as she demanded. “I’m sure Cid would love to learn about you and your friends’ midnight hot dog parties,” he rumbled coolly, watching with satisfaction as Zell’s eyes became saucers, “especially since you kept me up with all the noise every Friday for--”

“Keep it down, man!”

Behind Squall, Rinoa giggled softly.

Again, Zell scratched his head, though this time the action was more of a nervous fidget than to stir his thoughts. A sheepish, overly-amicable smile burst suddenly onto his face. He jerked his thumb behind him. “You want fries with that?”

 

-

 

Squall trudged back toward his room, Rinoa happily munching along behind him.

He stopped at his door and glared her. “Don’t tell me you forgot your way back to your room.”

She took a sip from her drink. “No, I’ll leave,” she assured him. “I just wanted to say something to you.”

 _Go figure._ “What is it?”

Her expression sobered. “Squall…I want you to know, even if we did argue, and the rexaurs almost ate us…I’m glad I came and found you.”

He nodded slightly, though if it was a gesture of agreement or merely an acknowledgement was unclear. “I know you mean well, but…you can’t change me, you know.”

At this, Rinoa smiled sadly. “Believe it or not, I never had to.” She started to back up, a step at a time, seeming reluctant to turn away. “You did that on your own.”

Squall watched as she finally made herself turn around and walk away, fading into the shadows as the distance swallowed her into the west wing of the dormitories.

Silently, he retreated to his quarters. Though he had a shower to take, and blood to clean from his weapon, he first spent a few minutes staring out his window and into the crystalline waters below.

Her departing words lingered in his mind, and though she was gone for now, they refused to leave him in peace.

 

-

 

A deep grunt of protest was the final sound uttered by the young rexaur—now safely muzzled—before the metal door to the huge holding cage closed with a clang.

The keeper of the training center’s deadlier wildlife dusted his hands off once the steel locks to the crate had been secured. Quistis stood at a safe distance, rubbing her hands ruefully. She was still trying to get the circulation flowing to her fingers. Even hampered by her chain whip, the rexaur was a powerful animal, and had required a great deal of effort to shepherd.

“Thanks for all your help, Miss Trepe.” The keeper nodded appreciatively in Quistis’ direction. “We had a lot of trouble rounding the little ones up today. Thought we had them all in their pens for the night, but I guess we missed this one.”

“I’m afraid your praise is misplaced. I didn’t find him. You have Squall and Rinoa to thank for that. He almost ate them.”

The keeper, a tall, burly man with short, prematurely grey hair, scratched his head thoughtfully. “Rinoa…that girl from the Timber resistance?” His face twitched, as if holding back a scowl. “I worry about someone like her hanging around here. I heard she’s General Caraway’s daughter! With ties to a man like that…I don’t see why they even let her in here. And the way she looks at that Squall kid, I’d be worried about him, too.”

Quistis frowned, suddenly defensive for no reason she could pinpoint. “How can you judge someone so quickly when all you know is hearsay?”

“Well…she _is_ Galbadian, after all. They don’t like us Dollet and Balamb types much.”

 _Galbadian! Is that the only reason?_ “Rinoa led a resistance _against_ Galbadia!”

“Still.” The keeper motioned around at the many armored animal cages in the room, though his meaning extended well beyond the thick walls. “This is my home. I’ve lived here since I was a teenager, back in the beginning when Cid was still settin’ up the place. I’d die if something happened to Garden. You understand, don’t you?”

Quistis couldn’t dignify the question with a reply. She turned for the exit and silently marched out the door.

The “safe-zone” around the perimeter of the training area was separated from the “battle-zone” by a very high, thick wall of strong metal, beyond which fell a deep drop-off, followed by a series of high-voltage wires that even rexaurs would balk at challenging. She whisked through the curved corridor and down the main hallway, fuming inside, bound for her room, all the while hoping against hope that no Trepies stopped her along the way.

She wasn’t in the mood to deal with fawners. Not tonight.

Halfway to the dorms, she slowed her grueling pace and took up a stiff walk along the inner circle of fountains. She stared at each water-spewing fish as she passed it.

_When did I become such a dry weed?_

Try as she might, she couldn’t understand what had made her so angry. It _did_ annoy her that the animal keeper had been so shallowly biased, but it was an understandable sin. Most every citizen of Galbadia that happened to walk through Garden’s doors was a detainee, and for good reason: they were soldiers. The tyrannical “republic” was, in general, every bit as hostile as it was made out to be. Quistis was no social activist, and she probably would have let the man’s remarks slide, if it hadn’t been for one comment:

‘ _I’d be worried about him, too.’_

That had flung a dangerous spark in her direction. Even now, the recollection made her smolder. There was no more skeptical person than Squall Leonhart. If _he_ could see no deception in Rinoa, then there was none. _Rinoa, a danger? She hasn’t a vicious bone in her body. She’s...headstrong, certainly, but...not bad. Not a spy, if that’s what he’s saying. She couldn’t lie to save her life. She’s only trying to help him. And...she might just be succeeding._

It had been incremental, but even Quistis had noticed the change. Squall had seemed no more receptive than usual, but perhaps, _less_ evasive than he had been. It could have been a change brought on by command, she supposed as she skulked down the dormitory hallways. Still, it was hard to explain the two stories she’d already heard of Squall taking--or _making--_ a joke in the past several days. She hadn’t seen the incidents herself, but they seemed to confirm what she had quietly denied; the dark air around him had cleared just a bit.

And then, there was the training center. The natural response to his impending doom would have been to put his arms up to protect himself. When Quistis had come upon them, however, he’d been holding tight to Rinoa. Clinging to her, in the process of a roll that would have protected _her,_ instead.

Even after the danger had passed, he’d seemed just a little bit…disarmed. When he and Rinoa had left, they’d done so side-by-side. And Squall hadn’t seemed to notice, had not tried to out-pace her. Quistis at least knew him well enough to recognize this slight, but significant change—something _only_ Rinoa had ever been able to catalyze for as long as she could remember.

And here someone had been insinuating the girl was dangerous and should be kept away from him.

_That’s ridiculous. We can’t keep her away. He needs her!_

It was this thought that stopped Quistis dead outside the door to her quarters. She stood motionless, staring into the unlit room as if it were the deepest blackness she had ever seen. She felt suddenly weak, like her knees were melting away from her legs.

She’d had wished she could dispel whatever chaos existed within Squall that drove him to be so callous. She had thought she could do it, since she’d known him for longer than anyone else in Garden.

Her goal had become a passion. The need to see to it that Squall learned to trust had become so strong, she’d assumed the terrible ache it caused in her heart was romantic. But despite all her efforts, she had failed. She was no different in Squall’s eyes than any other nameless person. And in light of Rinoa’s success, that passion was fast fading.

_I thought she was in love with him like me…but he never gives me a second glance. I’ve seen him stare at her for minutes on end. If it is Rinoa who is convincing him to change, either you need more than love to make someone listen…or I never was in love, in the first place._

Maybe it was true. Maybe she didn’t love him.

_But I’m still thinking about it, aren’t I? It isn’t as though I don’t care._

Slowly making her way into her room, she sat down in the darkness, on the edge of her mattress, still staring sightlessly ahead.

Someone had to reach him, if he was going to succeed in the long run. But she was beginning to think that she wasn’t the person to do that. Squall _knew_ her. She had been his instructor for a year. She’d come to Garden when Squall was only eight; he’d grown up with her. She was too familiar.

Rinoa was new, and as such, everything about her was a surprise. She kept not only Squall, but everyone guessing, and if there was something about her that could reach him, he had no defense against it because he did not know what to expect. And there _was_ ‘something.’ The fact it was something she couldn’t put her finger on made it seem all the more genuine. She had an effect on him that no one else had been able to duplicate in over thirteen years.

 _Thirteen?_ Quistis checked her math, frowned and cocked her head to one side, as if to dump brain-clouding garbage out her ear. _How could I know that? I haven’t even known him that long. Where did that come from?_ She didn’t feel the passing thought had been incorrect. _But that could mean...he hasn’t always been like this_. _If that’s it, then why? Was there someone else, long ago?_ And when? When had Squall ever been anyone but… _Squall?_

Her memories swirled confusingly. She had, suddenly, an image in her head of Squall as a very small child, smiling—but where, she couldn’t remember, or why. A smile would seem so out of place on him now. Still, she was sure the recollection was accurate.

 _So what about me?_ Confused, torn, and no closer to answers, Quistis laid out on her back, not bothering to change into her night clothes or get under the covers. _No one knows who I am. I need someone to know. Squall has Rinoa. Who do I have?_

A cold knot began to grow in her stomach as she realized that _that_ was _her_ problem, not anyone else’s.

At the moment, it seemed nothing could banish this affliction, and what frightened her the most was that its chill grip on her heart was fast becoming so intense, it was a struggle for her to feel anything at all.

 _Is it like this for Squall all the time?_ She wondered: _Did something happen? When he needed someone, was there no one?_

_By myself, will I end up…just like him?_

 

-

 

Squall awoke early the next day, sore but well-rested.

He marched through his morning routine with the mechanical efficiency of an assembly line, moving through every step exactly as he had every day he could remember of his life. When he emerged from his room, he was clean, dressed, shaven, and even his rather hair was set in order.

He stalked to the cafeteria, shrugging off the last of the morning chill that often assailed him. He waited patiently in line for his breakfast, took the tray to the same table he always sat at, in the far corner. As he sat down, his foot nudged something under his chair. He bent down to see what it was, and to his surprise, picked up a packaged deck of old playing cards. Placing the worn box on the table, he mused over it as he ate. It had been a long time since he’d seen someone playing any card game other than that stupid Triple Triad thing everyone was so addicted to. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a box of _plain_ poker cards.

Deciding to entertain his mind while he ate, he opened the box, set aside the jokers, and started a game of solitaire. He had just unearthed the third king when Rinoa approached and sat down across from him with her own tray in hand. He continued playing as if she didn’t exist, and she let him do so without interruption.

He lost. Putting the cards back in a deck, he straightened them, slid them back into the box, and finally looked at his visitor. She smiled, but said nothing to him.

“What’s with you?” He stirred his food, having no intention of eating any more. “You never wake up this early.”

He had to wait so long for her answer, he briefly considered if she was giving him the silent treatment to make some point. At long last, she spoke, but he wasn’t certain if she was really answering his question, or just blurting the first thing she had to say.

“I have a question.”

“Another one?” He bit into a biscuit before remember he wasn’t hungry. Another long silence followed. After he’d finished off the biscuit, he leaned his elbow on the table, contemplating the queerly confident smile on Rinoa’s face. “Even if I don’t answer, you’re gonna ask it anyway. So get it over with.” The prompt was an excuse—he was in an oddly curious mood, and the question she was dangling just beyond his reach was making him squirm inside.

Rinoa leaned forward, looking very pleased with herself, like she had just won a decisive contest with him. She followed up with her question. “How come you know exactly what to do all the time? You think so fast…” She sat back, pressing her hands against the edges of her chair. “When I get stuck in situations I don’t know how to get out of, I always end up muddling through and looking pretty silly doing it. You always seem to have an answer for every tight spot…you can’t be trained for everything. So how is that?” She giggled. “You make it look like you’re psychic.”

Squall chewed thoughtfully on a strip of bacon, thinking. Tossing the remnants of the floppy meat onto his plate, he cleaned his hands off on his napkin and picked up the box of cards once again. Opening it, he placed the unshuffled deck in front of Rinoa. “Choose any card,” he instructed her. “Don’t tell me what it is.”

Grinning curiously, Rinoa picked up the deck and thumbed through the cards. She picked one out and set the rest back on the table.

With a quick sweep of his hand, Squall cascaded the rest of the cards, all face-down. “Now put it back.” He watched Rinoa place her card somewhere in the center, then gathered them all up, shuffling them many times. Then he spread them out, this time face-up, and picked out the third to last at the right end of the line. He held up the five of clubs. “That your card?”

Rinoa’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s amazing. How did you know that? It’s like magic.”

Squall put the card back in the deck. “It’s not magic. It’s _observation…_ and a little sleight of hand.”

She tilted her head to the side, thoughtfully picking up “her” card again. “You’re saying, that when you’re in a jam, you take note of _everything,_ then rely on that and the tricks you’ve learned in the past to get you through it.”

He nodded. “Something like that. But you have to know the tricks, first. The rest…is just working with what you’ve got.”

“And if you run out of tricks?”

He reached over and snatched the card from her hands, placing it back in the deck. “Two cards this time.” He straightened the deck, and again put it in front of her.

She chose carefully, trying to find two that were completely different. She put the deck back on the table and watched as Squall spread it out again. Noting the seemingly meaningless motion, she hesitated before placing her cards back. “Don’t look.”

Squall stared at her for a moment, then obligingly turned his head.

She placed the cards in the deck—twice—pulling them out and putting them back in, trying her best to make sure they lined up with the rest so they gave no telltale signs she had chosen them. “Now try it,” she challenged in a deceptively friendly tone.

Squall picked up the deck and shuffled it. This time he thumbed through without allowing her to see the cards. He put the deck down and held out the two cards he’d chosen, both of them face-down. He stared at her seriously over the tops of the decorated paper rectangles.

“…Are these your cards?”

Smirking, knowing she’d found his trick and that he couldn’t possibly have found her cards, she took the offering from him.

Her smirk faded away into nothing as she held them up to see.

They were not the cards she had picked. But she was more shocked by his choices than she would have been if he had guessed right.

“Two rules you always follow,” Squall murmured coldly in answer to her second question. “Know yourself…and know your enemy.”

Rinoa slowly put the cards down. Her eyes met Squall’s, but his were colder than ever. This time, she had no words with which to fight. She lowered her gaze to the table and the two cards lying face-down in front of her, toying pensively with her necklace.

Three ascending chimes preceded Nida’s voice on the loudspeaker. _Attention, all SeeD members: we are approaching the Trabia border. Please report to your assigned duties immediately. Squall, you are needed on the bridge._

Without a word, Squall got up, took his tray, and left.

Rinoa waited for several minutes, until she was sure he was gone, before finally mustering the will to reach out and pick up the two chosen cards so she could see them again. One after the other, they shocked her again and again as she flipped them over.

The Queen of Hearts. The Ace of Spades.

_Know your enemy. Know yourself._

The Garden shuddered as it raised itself from the water and into the onslaught of Trabia’s bitterly cold winds.


End file.
